


The Freshmen

by angstbot



Series: SwanQueen Drabbles [14]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 06:19:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4252623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstbot/pseuds/angstbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven angsty drabbles (6x100, 1x200) exploring Emma and Regina’s youthful relationships and their impact on how they are together, set to The Verve Pipe song. SwanQueen endgame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Freshmen

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Warning for aftermath of marital rape, oblique reference to statutory rape.  
> If you don’t know the song: https://youtu.be/1umEXpGHc0E

_When I was young I knew everything  
And she, a punk who rarely ever took advice_

The girl had guts, Neal had to give her that. Using a slim jim and a screwdriver in broad daylight was bold stuff.

As he got to know her better, Neal came to realize Emma was both badass and bluffing, hardened and wounded. He didn’t want to ask how old she was. He couldn’t begin to tell her his age either, he rationalized, since time flowed so differently in different realms.

They were kindred spirits, both deprived of home and family by other people’s selfish choices, and that drew them together. That was enough—for now, for both of them.

* * *

 

_Now I'm guilt-stricken, sobbin' with my head on the floor  
Stopped a baby's breath and a shoe full of rice, no_

When the door closed behind the king on that first night, Regina had enough strength of will to claw her way off the bloodied sheets before she broke down. She lay on the floor for what felt like hours, wracked with sobs. For the pain in her body. For the pain her soul.

Daniel, her beautiful, kind Daniel, who had been killed for the crime of loving her. This should have been his night. It was her fault. She had known perfectly well what her mother was like, how inexorable her ambition, how ruthless her methods. The guilt was unbearable.

* * *

 

_I won’t be held responsible  
She fell in love in the first place_

As Cora strode away from the stable into the chill night, she took a deep breath and felt satisfaction settle over her.

Her daughter would be emotional over this boy for some time to come, of course. But that was no fault of hers. What had Regina been thinking, falling in love with someone so far beneath her?

No, Regina would come to appreciate that this was for her own good.  Now she would do the right thing and marry the king.

The foolish girl would have learned that love was weakness eventually, just as she had. But power endured.

* * *

_For the life of me_  
_I cannot remember_  
_What made us think that we were wise and we'd never compromise_

Whenever Neal looked back on that period later, the memories made him chuckle and shake his head.

It was wild. It was dumb. They were old enough to know better, but too young to care. They’d been as careless with their fucking as their stealing, and they’d almost been caught at both more than once. It blurred into a long montage of driving recklessly and laughing.

But the adrenaline made them feel alive. The running mostly kept them ahead of their demons, though they caught up in their sleep. How they had ever thought it could last was beyond him.

* * *

_For the life of me_  
_I cannot believe we'd ever die_  
_For these sins_  
_We were merely freshmen_

Yes, she had technically been deceiving her mother, but there was no real harm in it. Yes, she’d heard that well-brought-up young ladies should never be alone with men who weren’t their relations, much less touch, but with each stolen moment she understood the prohibition less. Daniel’s kisses were sweet and chaste. They filled her with joy and wonder.  

It seemed so simple. He loved her and wanted to marry her. They would run away together, escape her mother and this impending forced marriage.

She held his lifeless body in her arms for hours. They had been such small crimes.

* * *

_And now he’s guilt-stricken, sobbin’_  
_With his head on the floor_  
_Thinks about her now and how he never really wept he said_

Pinocchio- August- whoever he was- had said Neal needed to let Emma go. He’d insisted staying around would hurt her but letting her go to prison would set her on the path to cleaning up. The way he talked about Emma’s destiny as the savior that would break the curse sounded grand and important and meaningful.

That held Neal for a long time. But months later he saw a yellow 1972 Beetle and completely lost his shit. He never let himself feel the guilt, he realized as he broke down sobbing. He definitely hadn’t ever mourned the loss of her.

* * *

_We tried to wash our hands of all of this_  
_We'd never talk of our lacking relationships_  
_And how we're guilt-stricken sobbin' with our heads on the floor_  
_We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip_

It was just sex. A way to release some tension. A little human connection, but purely physical.

They didn’t talk after, or before, trying to fuck their traumas as quiescent as their bodies. There was no conversation about the scars that made them keep people at arm’s length for longer than they could remember. When the weight of the world pressed down too hard and left them sobbing on the floor they never, ever called each other.

They were lips and tongues and teeth, fingers and thighs, nipple and clit, sweat and cum. No hearts here, thank you very much.

Until they were. Despite themselves, they shared a sweet kiss now and again. They told themselves the family dinners were for Henry. The one-on-one meals, too. One late-night bout of honesty didn’t mean anything.

Before they knew it, they’d crashed through the fuckbuddy façade into something deep and rich and terrifyingly real.  It should have been ridiculous, the savior and the evil queen, the curse caster and the one who’d been collateral damage, people whose every interaction had thrown sparks.

But it turned out that the ragged edges of their souls were startlingly complementary, and it felt like coming home.


End file.
